


Frigid

by camshaft22, Justice_Turtle (Curuchamion)



Series: Refracted Fairytales [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, M/M, Snow Queen Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22932556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camshaft22/pseuds/camshaft22, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curuchamion/pseuds/Justice_Turtle
Summary: When Hobbie turns mysteriously cold and distant, Wes finds himself caught in a strange journey to save him.
Relationships: Wes Janson/Derek "Hobbie" Klivian
Series: Refracted Fairytales [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648210
Kudos: 4





	1. Frostfall

**Author's Note:**

> Neither of us own anything except our cars. 
> 
> Based very loosely on the Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen.

Wes Janson walked down the corridor of the base, entering the habitation area. Hobbie was here somewhere. They had been temporarily reassigned here due to injuries. Hobbie's leg, the mechanical one, had broken and Wes himself had Torgan Flu. He was finally over the sickness but he had only seen Hobbie a bit while he got fixed up. 

Wes continued walking, looking around for his tall wingmate. Maybe Hobbie was outside? He headed out of the base to look for him. The night sky was full of stars and the occasional comet or falling star, streaking by. Wes smiled, seeing Hobbie leaning on his cane, leg still braced while they upgraded it. He came closer, charmed to see Hobbie looking upward like this. 

Another comet streaked by overhead, this one closer and brighter than the others. Wes heard a grunt of pain and saw Hobbie grabbing towards his eye. "Hobbs? You ok?"

Hobbie turned towards him, a thin line of blood down his face. "I think so? Something dropped into my eye but it seems… it seems ok now." 

"It looks like it was bleeding," Wes said, worried. "Maybe we should have the medics check it out. Just in case."

Hobbie nodded and shrugged a bit. "Sure. It was probably a bug or something. Were you looking for me?" 

"Yeah, I thought maybe we could hang out?" Wes said. He missed Hobbie. "Now that I'm feeling better?"

Hobbie put an arm around him. "As long as you're feeling better. If I get sick, you're in trouble, Mister." 

"I would never get you sick," Wes said. "On purpose."

Hobbie gave him a rare grin. "Of course not. But still. You did kiss me when you had a cold once." 

"I did. Once. I learned my lesson," Wes teased, walking next to Hobbie. "So I won't kiss you till we get to medical, how's that?"

Hobbie squeezed his shoulder lovingly. "Fair. I'm glad you're doing better. I haven't seen you. You haven't been around to bitch to. Not your fault, of course, but I did miss your company." 

"I missed you too," Wes said. "I got used to being bitched at." He smirked up at Hobbie.

"You do make a good listening post," Hobbie teased. "Do you want to come with?" he asked while they arrived at medical. 

"Sure," Wes said. "I missed you a lot."

Hobbie nodded. "Same here. Isolation sucks," he said, walking with him to be checked in. 

"Absolutely,” Wes said. "I'm glad I'm not contagious anymore."

"Seriously," Hobbie commiserated. "Take a seat and I'll get checked in. Then you can come back with me." 

Wes hugged Hobbie quickly, then sat down to wait.

Moments later, Hobbie motioned him over and back they went. After a short exam, it was determined that nothing was wrong. They walked together towards Hobbie's quarters on the base. 

"Do you mind if we just sleep? My leg has been a bitch all day and I'm pretty tired from dragging it along," Hobbie told Wes, undressing. 

"As long as we get to snuggle," Wes teased him, getting undressed as well. He'd been in an empty bed for far too long.

Hobbie gave him a long suffering sigh and laid down, arranging his leg carefully and opened his arms. "I'll do it, for you." 

Wes cuddled up to Hobbie happily. If Hobbie really didn't want to snuggle, Wes wouldn't insist on it, but this kind of grumbling was just normal Hobbie.

"Love you " Hobbie told him, stroking his hair. 

Wes nuzzled his neck. "Love you too."

***

"Hey, Hobbie," Wes said, catching up to him outside the sim room. Ever since they got back from being on medical leave, Hobbie had seemed to be in a bad mood. "How are you feeling?"

Hobbie raised an eyebrow. "I'm doing ok. Why do you ask?" 

"No reason," Wes said. Hobbie tended to bristle when Wes pointed out he was cranky. "You want to hang out later? I feel like I haven't seen you as much since we got back."

"Yeah," Hobbie agreed. "I was trying to take things slow while you finished recovering. But we should definitely, definitely hang out," he said, cupping his cheek with an icy hand. "I've missed you too." 

"Brrr," Wes said, taking Hobbie's hand in both of his and rubbing it. "You're freezing. How are you not wearing like five blankets?"

Hobbie furrowed his brow. "Huh. I hadn't noticed. I was actually feeling a little warm. Sorry." 

"No problem," Wes said, hugging him. "You need more snuggles to warm you up, clearly."

Hobbie let out a rare chuckle and returned the hug. "Obviously," he said. Hobbie pulled back and they met each other's eyes. His eyes were so blue. Icy in a way that was… different. Surely Wes was imagining things, right?

He pulled Hobbie to him and kissed him. The kiss was cold as well.

"I love you. I'll see you later," Hobbie told him. "Do you want to pick up food?" 

"I'll bring something over," Wes said. He patted Hobbie's shoulder quickly. "I'll see you later."

Hobbie nodded. 

***

Wes was worried about Hobbie. Over the past several weeks, he'd become quieter, even more reserved. Wes wasn't sure if he'd offended Hobbie somehow or if his wingmate wasn't feeling well.

Hobbie sat in the lounge, curled in the corner as he stared at his datapad. 

Wes sat down near him, a little ways away. "Hey, Hobbs," he said. "How's it going?"

"Wes," he greeted. "I was reading… but I lost my place and kinda zoned out. Sorry. Have you been there long?" 

"Just got here," Wes said. "Are you feeling okay? It seems like you've been zoning out a lot more recently."

"Yeah," Hobbie said. "They didn't see anything wrong. Maybe I'm tired and it's just making me weirder than usual. At least I haven't lost my edge in the sims, huh?" 

Wes nodded. "Tired makes sense. You want to curl up and snuggle? Hoth Protocol?"

Hobbie frowned and finally nodded. "Yes, I enjoy that. We should do that." 

"Awesome," Wes said. He still felt like Hobbie was acting weird, but he wasn't sure how to ask about it. He'd take the cuddles for now and keep an eye on his friend.

***

Wes could hear Hobbie laughing derisively. "You mean to say that's your best? And you believe you're good?" 

Hurrying down the hall, he entered the sim room to find Hobbie looming over one of the newer pilots. "Hobbs?" he asked, confused. Hobbie could be an abrasive asshole but not... like that? Usually? Ever? To Wes, sure, he could take it, but not to the quacklings.

"Wes," Hobbie said, looking at him. "Take a look at these pathetic scores. I don't even know how you graduated training!" he exclaimed, looking at the young pilot. 

Wes looked over the scores. Nothing spectacular, but not horrifying. Some talent there, not Rogue material, but definitely not someone who should have washed out of basic. "They're not that bad," he said. "Cut the kid some slack, Hobbs." He edged between Hobbie and the young pilot, taking Hobbie's elbow. "C'mon, what's really going on?"

"Nothing. He's completely shavit," Hobbie said, gesturing towards him. "Please, please. Quit now." 

"Let's go for a walk, Hobbs," Wes said, his hand gripping Hobbie's arm firmly enough that it wasn't a suggestion.

Hobbie gave him a cool look and rolled his eyes. "Ok. Sure. Where will we stroll?" he asked. 

"Somewhere not here," Wes said, starting to lead him out of the sim room.

"Fine," Hobbie said. He let him drag him away. 

Once they were out of earshot, Wes said, "Seriously, Hobbie, why were you hassling that kid? Did he do something I should know about? You're acting... weird. This whole thing is weird."

Hobbie looked at him. "I don't know what you're saying. I was trying to keep you safe. He would get you killed or someone else. He's shavit." 

"He's average to good for the missions he flies. Have you been treating the rest of them like that?" Wes demanded.

Hobbie looked at him. "Of course," he said. "Our trainers are letting us down." 

"They really aren't," Wes said. "Those kids are as good as the ones we trained." He felt sick. Who was this? Where was Hobbie? He loved his wingmate dearly, but this... how could Hobbie be so cruel to new pilots just trying their best?

"Ha!" Hobbie exclaimed. "You're kidding, right?" 

"No," Wes said, frowning. "Hobbs, please, this isn't like you. What's going on? Do I need to break out the stats on our squadrons, because I will make you sit through a day-long analysis if that's what it takes."

Hobbie scoffed. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"You're wrecking the confidence of talented young pilots for reasons I can't comprehend and you don't seem to think are worth explaining. Something's not right. Please, Hobbs, I just want to understand."

Hobbie frowned. "They should be better at this point. Their weakness is appalling." 

"They're as good as most pilots at their level of experience. They're no Wedge or Tycho, but who is?"

"That's different. Wedge and Tycho are off the scale. I'm talking real people," Hobbie told him. 

"And on a scale of real people, these kids are just fine. What the kriff is _wrong_ with you, Hobbs?" Wes demanded, frustrated.

Hobbie looked at him, confused. "Nothing? Just because you disagree…" 

"It's not just that I disagree. You don't go attacking them directly. You could speak to their commander or Wedge if you have concerns, and not risk destroying their confidence."

"Ok, fine. I still don't get why it matters but ok," Hobbie said. "Are you going to take over my training then?" 

"If that's what it takes," Wes decided. "Yes."

"Well, enjoy that then. I'm going to take a long lunch," Hobbie told him with a sniff. 

"Have fun with that," Wes told him.

"You're really snippy lately," Hobbie told him. "Do I need to kriff it out of you?" 

Wes gave him a toothy leer. "I'd like to see you try."

"Too bad we're on base or I would," Hobbie told him. "Something to think about for tonight." 

"I'll look forward to it," Wes said. Something really weird was going on.

Hobbie kissed him roughly with ice cold lips and walked down the corridor. 

Wes stared after him, frowning.

***

Hobbie walked into Wes's quarters, looking mildly annoyed. Wes watched as he made himself at home, grabbing a turbofizz and then groping Wes's ass. 

"See anything you like?" Wes teased mildly.

"Absolutely," Hobbie told him, kissing his neck. "You're adorable." 

Wes nuzzled Hobbie, sliding his hands up under his tunic. Hobbie still felt oddly cold, but maybe some vigorous sex would warm him up. "What does that make you?"

"Lucky," Hobbie told him. "Very lucky. You're mine." 

"I'm yours and you're mine," Wes agreed. "How do you want me?"

"Your bed, naked and lubed up," Hobbie told him. 

Wes happily stripped and quickly prepared his ass, slicking and stretching himself for Hobbie's thick cock. He got onto the bed, ready on his hands and knees. "How do I look?" he asked teasingly.

"Beautiful. Mine," Hobbie told him, undressing. He rubbed his cock. He put a barrier on and teased Wes's hole with his icy fingers. 

Wes shuddered. It was a strange feeling, making him clench and tighten, but not bad. "Your hands are so cold," he groaned. "Oh... oh please, fuck me already?"

Hobbie pulled his hand free. "Really?" He asked. "Ok," Hobbie said doubtfully but lined up and started pushing into Wes, gently stretching and filling him. 

"Oh, yes please," Wes moaned. That felt amazing after Hobbie's cold fingers. So thick and warm, filling him almost to the point of pain but not quite, stretching and rubbing inside him till he felt like his brain was already beginning to melt from pleasure.

Hobbie entered slowly until he was buried to the hilt. Then he pulled back rapidly and slammed back in roughly, fucking him with abandon. 

Wes yowled out his pleasure as Hobbie fucked him hard, arching and bucking into the sensations, giving himself over completely to the feelings they shared.

"You going to be less of a bitch?" Hobbie asked, still fucking into him. 

"Make me," Wes growled. He didn't know what was going on with Hobbie, but in bed he couldn't help being like this, mouthing off, forcing Hobbie to dominate him. He loved it and Hobbie so seldom got this deeply into it. Maybe Wes should be more worried, but right now he was only concerned with what this amazing sex was doing for his body and his brain.

Hobbie gripped his hair, yanking, making his back arch and slammed into him hard. "You're mine. You need to be less of a bitch." 

"I'm your bitch," Wes retorted, writhing in almost agonizing pleasure as Hobbie continued to fuck him. "You want that to stop?"

Hobbie chuckled low and buried himself into Wes as he shivered and came. "You're mine." 

"All yours," Wes agreed, clenching tight around Hobbie, so close. "You want to suck me off to prove it?"

"No," Hobbie told him, wrapping a hand around Wes's cock. 

Wes gasped and jerked at the cold tight grip, his orgasm overtaking him even as his body reacted to the chill of Hobbie's touch.

Hobbie kissed his shoulder. "You feel better?" 

Wes nodded, panting. "I'm still doing your training," he said.

"Fine," Hobbie told him. "I don't actually care. I can hide in my office. What drudgery were you assigned?" 

"I'll send you my datawork assignments," Wes said. "We'll swap." He still didn't know what the hell was going on with Hobbie, but hopefully whatever it was, he couldn't give the datawork a complex about its abilities.

"Excellent. Even more reason to hide in my office," Hobbie told him. He got up and went into the refresher. Water started running and Hobbie came back, wiping him clean. 

Wes lay flopped down, recovering. "That was amazing," he said. "How about you?"

"It was excellent," Hobbie told him. "I know we said we'd keep things kinda easy but I'm really glad we're doing this." 

"Me too," Wes said. "I like you a lot."

"Just like?" Hobbie teased. 

Wes cuddled up to him. "I love you," he said truthfully. "I like you too, but I love you a lot."

Hobbie kissed him, squeezing him tight. "I love you too." 

"You're still freezing," Wes said, kissing him back. "Let me see if I can warm you up."

Hobbie chuckled. "Take your best shot."

***

"Hey, Tych," Wes said, poking his head into Tycho's office. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Tycho nodded. "Absolutely. You can seal the door if you need to." 

Wes came in, sealed the door, and sat down. "It's about Hobbie. Is it just me or is he acting really... weird lately?"

Tycho frowned, looking thoughtful. "Yes," he said with a nod. "He's… just almost cruel. I've been meaning to speak with him and see just what's gotten into him. But he's almost impossible to nail down." 

"I've talked to him, but he doesn't even seem to realize anything is wrong. It's... I'm worried about him," Wes said.

Tycho nodded. "That's so strange. A lot of people are starting to complain about his attitude." 

Wes nodded. "I've pulled him off training, swapped with him. He's been practically trying to destroy the quacklings."

"Thank you. I had wondered. Your data work was good but there was a certain lack of personality. It was Hobbie?" Tycho said. 

"Even his datawork is weird," Wes said, frowning. "It's not as... Hobbie? Or am I just crazy?"

Tycho pulled up a file and looked it over. "You're right. It's a lot more subtle but yes. You're right and you're not crazy at all." 

"I almost wonder if we should have the medics take a look," Wes said. "He'd just insist everything's normal though. But he's also... his hands are freezing cold all the time and he doesn't seem to mind. That doesn't sound like him, right? He bitches so hard when he's cold."

Tycho looked at Wes. "That doesn't sound like him at all. Change of personality and body? Could he have been replaced?" 

Wes shrugged. "It would have to be an exact replica. Even clones don't have all the little scars and stuff. But I am... concerned. All I've got is, something weird is going on."

Tycho raised an eyebrow. "Of course you've checked he has all his scars..." 

"I'm very observant," Wes said innocently.

"It would be very hard to clone all his injuries… but we both agree that he's acting very strange." 

"Yeah," Wes said with a sigh. "I just have no idea what to do about it other than keep an eye on him and hope nothing spectacularly bad happens. You?"

"It's the only thing we can do," Tycho agreed. "We may need to try and keep him close to the Rogues. Let Wedge and Horn know." 

"I'll do that," Wes agreed. "I just hope this sorts itself out."

"Definitely. Thanks for letting me know. We'll start keeping a closer eye on his behavior," Tycho told him. 

"Thanks, Tych," Wes said. "I feel a little better having backup on this."

"Absolutely. I'm glad you reached out," Tycho told him.

"I'm glad too," Wes said.

Tycho stood up and came around the desk, pulling him into a hug. "It's going to be ok." 

Wes settled into the hug, holding Tycho close. "Thanks."

Tycho nodded and they stood together for a few moments, just being. 

***

Wes woke with a gasp. He felt Hobbie's side of the mattress. Cold. He got to his feet, rushing out into the living area. Hobbie was on his couch, watching holos. "Hobbs?" 

"Oh. Wes," Hobbie said, turning to look at him. "Everything ok?" 

"Just wasn't sure where you were," Wes said. "You're so chilly lately, the bed wasn't even warm. You sure you're okay?"

Hobbie nodded. "I'm fine. I'm just not tired anymore. Sorry. I don't feel cold. You'd think I would." 

Wes sat down next to Hobbie and leaned on him. "Snuggles?" Hobbie was so cold and so bony it was like snuggling a block of Ralltiir marble with elbows, but Wes didn't really know how else to show his affection.

"Only if you'd like," Hobbie said. "But I do enjoy it very much," he told him. 

Wes leaned on Hobbie and made himself as comfortable as possible before beginning to doze off again.

Hobbie gently stroked his hair. 

Wes burrowed against him, making happy little noises of comfort. He liked being close to Hobbie, even as weird as Hobbie was being.

"I love you," Hobbie whispered. "You were always the best of me." 

"Love you too," Wes murmured sleepily. Maybe everything would be all right from now on.

***

Wes was getting even more worried. Hobbie had somehow managed to piss everyone off, even Tycho, with his rude comments and cruel behavior. Wes didn't know what to do.

They were flying sims together, just him and Hobbie against the computer, and he thought he'd try again to bring it up. "Hey, Hobbs?" he began tentatively. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," Hobbie said tightly. "What do you want to talk about?" 

"You've been acting really weird lately. Cranky, even for you. I'm practically the only one who will still run sims with you. You're going to get kicked out of the squadron at this rate. I need to know why."

Hobbie huffed. "I'm doing them a favor. They need to know. I'm tired of being silent." 

"They need to know you hate and despise them? Cause that's what it's sounding like, Hobbs."

"I do. I'm tired of having to deal with it," Hobbie told him. 

"And what about me?" Wes asked bluntly. "Do you hate and despise me too?"

Hobbie was silent. He sighed heavily. "Well, it's not like I can trust you. You've been talking about me for weeks. I wouldn't be surprised if you accidentally on purpose shot me down." 

"That why you're flying with me?" Wes asked. "As a test?"

"Just giving you the opportunity to make Wedge happy," Hobbie told him. "You're always willing to do whatever he wants."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Wes asked, feeling that he was being set up for something but didn't know what.

"You always drop me for Wedge. Doesn't matter what I want. It's always Wedge. I'm surprised he doesn't take pity on you and let you suck his cock." 

"It's not like that," Wes said, embarrassed. It wasn't! "If I've been neglecting you, Hobbie, you could have just said. You don't have to cause trouble with everyone else just to get my attention."

"Sure it's not," Hobbie said. "I'm not doing it for your attention. I'm just sick of everyone. No one ever notices me." 

"I do," Wes said, knowing it was futile. "Hobbs... what can I do? How can I help fix this?"

"You can't," Hobbie told him in a final sort of tone. "I'm finished with this and you." 

Wes didn't even know what to say to that. "...Hobbs?" he asked, shaky.

"Wes?" Hobbie mocked. 

"Nothing," Wes said, his heart sore. "Have a nice life." It could have, should have been sarcastic, but the most painful thing was that he meant it.

"I will," Hobbie told him and ended the sim. 

Wes stayed in his sim pod, fighting tears, until he was sure Hobbie had left.

***

Wes had no shame, he knew that, but this was a new low even for him. He knocked on Hobbie's door, knowing he was letting himself in for the humiliation of a lifetime, knowing he deserved it. Who went over to their ex's place after being dumped to admit they couldn't sleep alone? He should be _anywhere_ else. He was pathetic. But... he'd rather be on Hobbie's sofa than in his own bed tonight.

Hobbie opened the door, looking even more pale than he had earlier. His eyes drooped and the circles under his eyes were dark as Darth Vader's helmet. "What?" he asked. 

"I couldn't sleep," Wes blurted out. "I know this is pathetic, but could I please sleep on your couch? Just for tonight?"

Hobbie looked at him confused. "… sure?" he said. Hobbie stepped aside and let him in. "You know where everything is. Or you could lie down with me. I don't care." 

Sithspit, he was pathetic. "I'll sleep in the bed then," Wes said, bowing his head. "So I don't disarrange everything." He knew it was true that Hobbie didn't care. And Wes... oh, he cared, so very much. Just one more night in Hobbie's bed. He hadn't realized how much this rejection would hurt. He'd never had cause to think about it before.

"Appreciate it," Hobbie told him. "I actually feel tired tonight so maybe I'll sleep. So. You know, make yourself comfortable." 

"Thank you," Wes said, and meant it. Hobbie was being very gracious about the whole thing, really.

Hobbie shrugged. He got a glass of water and grabbed one for Wes, handing him the glass. "Here." 

"Thank you," Wes said again politely. He drank the water and went to the bedroom, getting undressed. Once he was stripped down to his underclothes, he got into the bed. It was so cold, colder than if Hobbie had never been in it at all.

Hobbie lay still, as if dead. "Goodnight," he said politely. 

"Good night," Wes said, curling up on himself and trying not to snuggle up to Hobbie by instinct. "Sleep well."

***

Wes woke up, feeling the bed shift. Hobbie was standing straight up at the bedside and started walking away. He was moving stiff and unlike himself. 

Wes sat up, but didn't speak. Something about the spookiness of the situation kept him quiet. He rolled gently out of bed, trying not to make a noise, and prowled after Hobbie as he went out of the bedroom.

Hobbie opened the door and walked out into a blizzard. There was the sound of laughter, feminine but full of danger. Hobbie vanished before his eyes. 

Wes blinked and rubbed his eyes. He was dreaming, right? He went back to the bed and felt around, looking for Hobbie. He had to be here somewhere.

After several attempts to wake up, including falling out of the bed, Wes had to admit he was either awake or really stubbornly asleep. He found his comlink and called Wedge.

"Antilles," Wedge responded, sleep in his voice. "Is this… Wes?" 

"It's me," Wes confirmed. "I need you to come over to Hobbie's place and tell me I had a nightmare. I just saw him walk out the door and disappear into a snowstorm, and I can't wake up." He probably sounded a little panicky, but he felt like he had a right to be.

"Hobbie… ok?" Wedge asked. "Give me a few." 

"I'll be here," Wes said.

***


	2. Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wes searches for his lost wingmate

Wedge filled the doorway, looking at the snow that covered the area. "Wes?" 

"I'm here," Wes said, looking at the prints of Hobbie's bare feet. "That may be the only thing I'm still sure of, but I'm pretty sure I'm here."

Wedge reached out and pinched his arm. "Did you feel that?" 

"I've felt things in dreams before," Wes said. "But the evidence does seem to indicate that I'm awake. So where the kriff is Hobbie?"

"Why is there snow?" Wedge asked. He held a hand up. "Ok, so, you were sleeping when he left the room, then he walked outside, disappeared in a snowstorm. Is that what happened?" 

"Yes," Wes said. "And there was laughter. Like a woman's voice. It doesn't make any sense but that's what happened."

"That's impossible," Wedge said. "It sounds like something out of a fairytale, like the Helkadinen story. Is this a prank?" 

Wes just looked at him. "If it is, I wasn't told."

Wedge looked at him. "This… This can't be real. She doesn't exist. Queen Helkadinen doesn't exist, she's a myth. But it fits. It fits. Hobbie went to everyone and broke ties. Made us dislike him. That's what everyone does before they disappear." 

"People don't just... evaporate in snowstorms," Wes said. "I'm getting holos. They won't prove anything but I'll feel better. But... fairy tales? You really think that's our best explanation?"

"Absolutely not but what else could it be?" Wedge asked. 

Wes snorted. "That's our Wedge. Something completely unexpected. What was that fairy tale you thought of again? Helka... dinen? Is it Corellian?"

"She's a being of ice and snow. She steals people away in a snowstorm and they never return. It might be Corellian but I've heard it from other people too. Spacers who stopped at the depot. At least a variation." 

"Huh," Wes said. "Well, I need some damn sleep before I try to figure this out. Can I stay at your place?"

Wedge nodded. "Of course. I know it sounds insane," he told him. "But it follows the story. Don't you have something similar in your culture?" 

Wes shrugged, starting to get dressed. "Jungle planet. Maybe one or two really old stories? I don't remember. You'd think 'person can't get warm and then explodes into snow' would stick out more."

"He didn't explode into snow. He was taken away," Wedge objected. 

"Yeah, but if I hadn't seen him go, what would you think?" Wes asked, gesturing at the bare footprints Hobbie had left, surrounded by pristine snow.

Wedge rolled his eyes. "Ok, fine. C'mon. Let's get to my place." 

Wes finished getting dressed and hugged Wedge. "Thank you."

Wedge hugged him tight. "It's going to be ok." 

"It damn well better be," Wes muttered, not very confidently.

Wedge guided him out of the apartment and locked everything up. "Why were you here? Didn't he…?" 

"Don't judge me," Wes grumbled. "Yes, he threw me out and I went begging back because I'm pathetic."

"I'm not judging and you're definitely not pathetic. I was just worried he hurt you worse," Wedge told him. 

Wes shrugged again. "Right now I don't even kriffing know, honestly. I'm kind of messed up."

Wedge nodded and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Let's go to bed." 

***

Wes woke up with an arm around his waist and Wedge's head on his shoulder. He exhaled and tried not to cry, not wanting to wake Wedge. Hobbie was gone. Hobbie hated him. Kriff. 

He remembered what Hobbie had said, that Wes cared more about Wedge, always gave Wedge more consideration than Hobbie. That was too much. He started crying, silently, still trying to suppress his sobs until they turned into hiccups and made his ears ache.

Wedge opened his eyes as the movement of Wes's chest jolted him. He pushed himself up and looked at him. "Oh, Wes," he said, sitting up and pulling him close. 

Wes leaned on Wedge and let himself cry, all the fear and confusion and pain of the past several weeks flooding out of him. Wedge held him, rubbing his back and being his support. 

Finally, Wes had cried himself out. "H-he said I care more about you," he explained incoherently, sniffling.

"That's doubtful," Wedge told him. "You love him. We're just… pilot and gunner. Hobbie is so important to you." 

Wes nodded. "He... he didn't believe that."

"I don't think he's himself. He wanted to hurt you," Wedge said kindly. 

"If... if it's possible. I want to find him. Get him back."

Wedge nodded. "Of course. But… I'm not sure if you can. All the stories say that they never return." 

Wes gave him a stubborn look. "We'll see about that."

"Well… we are undergoing maintenance. I can give you leave. Honestly, the amount of leave you have is… very high," Wedge told him. "But I wouldn't even know where to start." 

"Obroa-Skai," Wes said. "When in doubt, ask a librarian."

"Good idea. Who do you want with you?" Wedge asked. 

Wes shook his head. "I'm going alone. If nobody comes back..."

"Are you sure?" Wedge asked. "I don't want to lose you too." 

Wes set his jaw. "I'm coming back with him or proving nobody comes back at all. I'll stay in touch so you know where to start looking if I go missing, but there's no point in pulling someone else away from their duties." He sniffled a little more. "It should be him with me anyway."

Wedge hugged him tight. "If you're sure." 

"I'm sure," Wes said. 

"I'll get things taken care of. Bring him home," Wedge told him. 

Wes hugged him tight. "I will."

***

The Celebratus Archive loomed in front of Wes. He looked at the massive library and made his way up the stairs. It was gorgeous inside with high ceilings and data terminals. 

Finding a librarian droid, Wes explained, "I'm looking for studies of the fairy tale about the Queen Helkadinen, especially the source and inspirations of the story, whether it has any basis in truth. Can you point me to the right section of the library?"

"Of course, Master Janson. You'll want Sector 32, Section 9. You'll find all academic articles on legends and stories there. If you're in need of help, just press the red button and someone will attend to you momentarily," the droid explained, handing him a fob. "This will allow your access as well. Please return after your session." 

"Thank you," Wes said. "I might be a while."

"That is perfectly fine, Master. There are places you can stay and we will log your session for a cycle unless you clear the system." 

"Sounds perfect," Wes said. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, Sir. Enjoy your session." 

***

Wes had been on Obroa-Skai for several planetary rotations, reading and making notes, before he was sure he had a clue to his next move. Legends of Helkadinen were many, and analyzed by many scholars, but mostly in passing. Only one academic seemed to give serious consideration to the idea of a real Helkadinen stealing people from their friends and families. That academic, Phineas Mahabane, was listed on his papers as teaching at a university on the planet Gwyvnd. 

Wes spent another rotation analyzing more documents just to be sure, then sent Wedge a brief message. " _Next stop, Gwyvnd, on the fringes of Wild Space_." If and when he went missing, Wedge would start looking near his last known location. Wes didn't kid himself that Wedge would do anything as sensible as _not_ follow him.

Then, after returning his access fob and thanking the library droids kindly, he got back into his two-seater Y-wing, which he'd requisitioned in the optimistic hope of bringing Hobbie back in it, and set out for Wild Space.

***

Gwyvnd reminded Wes of home, the moist heat and jungle climate like Taanab. It seemed like a nice place. He went to the university on the search for Professor Mahabane and hopefully some solid leads to where Hobbie had gone. If this was even real. 

It had to be real. People didn't just... evaporate into hyper-localized snowstorms without some kind of explanation.

Wes approached the information desk at the University library. "Hello," he said. "I'm researching the work of Professor Phineas Mahabane on the Helkadinen fairy tale. Can you help me?"

The Devaronian woman smiled. "I can direct you to someone in that field of study. The Professor passed several years ago. You'll want to speak with Professor Sing Bofta. He's the expert on that and many other tales. Here's a datapad with the directions," she said. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" 

"No, thank you," Wes said, taking the datapad. "You've been very helpful and I appreciate it."

"Of course, Sir. Have a good day and I hope you're able to see the campus while you're here. You can return if you'd like a guided tour." 

"It looks very pretty," Wes said. "I'd like that." He turned and headed off, following the campus map, to Dr Bofta's office.

Dr. Bofta was a tall Lasat with a holo running while he was working on something else. "Eme! Eme, did you bring my lunch yet?" 

"Hello, Doctor Bofta," Wes said politely. "Um, I don't have your lunch, but I have some questions for you about the legend of the Queen Helkadinen. Would it be good if I went and got some food so we could talk over lunch?"

Dr. Bofta looked at him surprised. "Oh. Oh, please. I deeply apologize. You tend to get into a certain… mindset around students. Uh, I would be more than happy to get lunch with you. We can do it here or somewhere else." 

"Let's go out and get lunch," Wes suggested. "It's about time I ate too."

Bofta grinned in a very human fashion. "Sounds good. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dr. Sing Bofta," he said, offering a hand. 

"Major Wes Janson, New Republic," Wes said, shaking the Lasat's hand. "A pleasure to meet you too."

"The pleasure is mine, Major Janson," he said. "Shall we?" Bofta asked. Wes nodded and they walked down the hall. "So, what interests you in Queen Helkadinen?" 

"I think she took my wingmate," Wes said honestly. "At least, he disappeared in a freak snowstorm with no other explanation I've been able to find. I have holos of the last traces he left. I'll be happy to give you whatever information you want for your research if you can assist me in trying to get him back."

Bofta looked at him in shock. "We're… That has been a theory raised. One I hope to prove. Some being taking people in ancient times and the tales were the only thing that survived. Let's eat. You should tell me everything." 

Once they found a place to get takeout, they sat down at an outdoor table. Between bites, Wes explained what had happened - how Hobbie had become more and more distant, physically cold, and eventually walked out in the night to vanish in a localized snowstorm to the sound of laughter. "He was in bare feet," Wes said, showing Bofta the holo of the footprints. "That's weird, right? He can't have been thinking normally."

"No. I somewhat doubt he was doing anything of his own volition. Obviously, we're supposing that this is an actual thing that occurs. But the stories all have a common thread of a being turning to ice inside and then disappearing in the snow. The details differ but that's the common element," Bofta said. "I am surprised that he didn't turn against you. They tend to do that in most of the tales." 

"Turn against me how? Like attack me?" Wes asked, slightly horrified at the thought.

"It's possible. Mostly they destroy any relationships they have, doing whatever it takes. I've theorized that it makes the person less likely to be missed once they're taken." 

Wes shook his head. "He did... he was pretty mean to, well, all of us. But not long before he left, he kissed me and told me I was the best part of him. Is that unusual?" He shivered. "He was so cold by then. Colder than a corpse."

Bofta studied him. "It only happens in maybe five separate tales. The affected being feels their self disappearing and gives one last show of affection before they're gone. It fits the narrative," he said. "I feel like I'm going insane. You're sitting here telling me this is real. Giving me proof." 

Wes shrugged. "I'm going to try to get him back. I'll give you copies of the holos, an official interview to document everything, whatever you want before I leave. If this happens to anybody else, I want to leave information behind for them. Just in case I don't make it out. But I'll need anything you can give me about the probable location of Helkadinen's... base, for lack of a better term."

"Janson… no one has ever come back. Not once," Bofta told him. "If this is true, then Helkadinen's home base may be mobile or unreachable… or you just end up dead or enslaved with the missing." 

"Which is why I want to give you all my information first," Wes said. "I know the odds say I don't make it back. But I can't just leave Hobbie to... whatever it is that happens to the ones Helkadinen takes. He means too much to me."

Bofta nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss. I'll do what I can to help you." 

"Do you have any information that might help me know where to go next?" Wes asked. "The places the oldest Helkadinen stories come from, anything like that?"

"I have some ideas of where you need to go," Bofta said. "I'll try to get a path for you. Let's get back to my office and start getting this recorded. I have a feeling that you have strong ties that will come looking." 

Wes snorted. "You'd be right about that. If I don't make it back, you'll have a pair of New Republic pilots on my trail, including General Wedge Antilles. He makes a habit of beating impossible situations."

"I'm surprised that it wouldn't be your entire squadron if that were to happen. Let's hope his luck is with you," Bofta said. 

"Here's hoping," Wes agreed.

***

Bofta walked with him to the landing pad. "Wes…" he began, worriedly. Wes knew he thought this would end in his death. "Are you sure?" 

"Hobbie's my wingmate," Wes said simply. "I have to see this through. I'm counting on you to tell our story."

"I hope you're the first to return. It was a true pleasure meeting you," Bofta said, offering a hand. 

Wes shook Bofta's hand. "You've been great. I just hope the academic community believes in the recordings we've made. I know Wedge will, anyway."

"My reputation will survive even if they don't believe. They thought my mentor wasn't all there and he wasn't crazy so it'll be fine," Bofta said. "Good luck." 

"Thank you," Wes said. "I'll need it." He clambered into the Y-wing's pilot seat and waved to Professor Bofta before taking off.

Once he'd set his course and made his hyperspace jump, he had plenty of time to think. Bofta hadn't been able to give him coordinates to Helkadinen's system, but he had given Wes a short list of the systems where Dr Mahabane had done the majority of his research on the Helkadinen phenomenon. Hopefully, someone in one of those systems could give Wes his next clue. He'd already messaged Wedge the list, with an additional note: " _If you have to come after me, I recommend stopping on Gwyvnd first. Professor Sing Bofta at the University has a lot of good information."_

Or maybe he'd spend the next two years chasing a ghost around the Unknown Regions. Who knew?

***

Wes was discouraged. None of the librarians on this planet seemed to have any leads on Helkadinen, beyond a few copies of Dr Mahabane's work. All the locals Mahabane had interviewed were long dead.

Tired and annoyed, Wes stopped into a bar and ordered a strong whisky. He could use a break. Hobbie was gone, Wes was just still too stubborn to give up.

A woman approached him and sat down with another drink for him. "You're the one searching for Queen Helkadinen?"

Wes nodded, too tired and frustrated to even summon his usual cheery smile. "That's me."

"I think I can help you. My elder… she has seen the place you want to go," she told him. "My name is Sine. I want to help." 

Wes finished his drink. "Any lead is better than nothing," he said, and smiled.

Sine stood and led him to a large area with several tenant houses clustered together. She led him inside one of the many doors. "Please, sit anywhere," she told him and left the room. 

Wes took a seat and waited. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, but if it got him closer to saving Hobbie, he could deal.

The room was quiet, fairly small, with worn-looking furniture, the kind of room that the same person has lived in for decades on end. Wes's grandparents on Taanab had all had variations of such rooms, some more relatively opulent, some more cluttered. This one was nice, peaceful and organized.

A grizzled looking old woman came out in a hoverchair. She was missing both legs and an arm and the one she did have looked discolored. She looked straight at him, looking alert and slightly distrustful of him. Wes could understand. 

"You're seeking Queen Helkadinen?" 

"She took my partner," Wes said. "At least, that's the best explanation I have."

The woman shook her head. "You'll die going. Or end up like me." 

Wes nodded. "If there's any chance of rescuing him, I still have to try. Did you get your person back?" he asked. "Or were you rescued from her?"

"My partner was a brave, sweet, kind man. It was a dark night when he saw her eerie light. He got one of her shards in his eye… and started changing. When he left me, I managed to figure it out and chased after him. There were 13 of us on that expedition and everyone died but me. She left me alive to further my tortures," she said bitterly. "I didn't even reach the inside." 

"I'm sorry," Wes said. "But you know where she can be found?"

The woman shook her head. "You are a foolish person. Die well when you do. Sine, get the path. What cold weather gear do you have, Fool?" 

"Only some stuff from when I was stationed on the ice planet Hoth ten years ago," Wes said. "I gather I'm going to need a much better set of equipment?"

"Bring it here. We will see if it will work," she told him. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Wes said. He went to his Y-wing and brought back his cold weather gear. Sine helped him lay it out. She brought the pieces to her Elder. The woman examined them. "This is a start but you'll need much more." 

“Makes sense,” Wes said. “Where can I get what I need?”

"Sine. Take him," she said. "This damage wasn't because of my gear. This was the Queen showing her displeasure." 

“So good gear won’t necessarily save me, but bad gear will certainly doom me,” Wes said. “Of course.”

"You understand. Once you have your gear, I will tell you what you need," she said. 

***

Several hours later, Wes and Sine returned to the Elder’s rooms with a much expanded selection of cold weather gear. Wes hoped it would be enough. 

The Elder made approving noises. "The planet is deeply cold. I haven't been to Hoth but it is colder than that, I'm sure. It's unnatural how cold it is," she explained. "She is heartless, cruel, and will destroy your partner. He is her slave. I don't know why… or what she does with them. But she searches for new victims every few centuries. At least that's what the stories say." 

Wes sighed. “It occurs to me that I have absolutely no idea what to do once I get there. Do the stories say how to try to get someone out?”

"No one has ever succeeded. You're very much on your own. The only suggestion I have for you is to be respectful. Do not allow her to trick you. Never forget that you are not welcome. I hope… I hope for your sake that your partner can be free of her influence. He may be too far gone." 

Wes frowned. He hadn’t really considered that either. If he rescued Hobbie, but Hobbie was still cold and distant... Wes choked, unable to stop himself.

Sine put a hand on his shoulder. The Elder reached out and took his hand in her gnarled hand. "Don't despair. You are very determined. Just be prepared to do whatever it takes." 

Wes nodded. “I’ve come this far.”

The Elder nodded. "Finish the journey. I hope for your success," she said. 

***

Wes looked down at the white world that hung by its lonesome around a dying star. The planet was so white it hurt the eyes. 

“Knob, you remember your instructions?” he asked. His astromech whistled and beeped, scrolling text across his viewscreen. Knob would wait, periodically flying the Y-wing for brief periods to keep its feet from freezing too firmly to the ground. If Wes didn’t return or comm him within three months, Knob would send out a distress signal to the New Republic. In six months, if no one had yet returned to the lonely ship, Knob would take off and return to civilization, bringing Wedge the news of Wes and Hobbie’s probable demise.

“Hopefully this isn’t one of those fairy tales where time runs weird,” Wes mused aloud. 

Knob pointed out helpfully, _A TIME ANOMALY ENCOMPASSING THE WHOLE PLANET WILL AFFECT US BOTH AT THE SAME RATE._

“And a time anomaly encompassing, say, only part of the planet?” Wes asked, mostly rhetorically.

_WOULD LIKELY BE ASSOCIATED WITH TIDAL GRAVITIC EFFECTS I DO NOT DETECT ON THE PLANETARY SURFACE._

“Great. Fine. Okay. So we get back and everyone we love is dead, but at least we get back?” Wes teased.

The Y-wing flew towards the surface and once they were in atmosphere, Wes could feel a chill come into his cockpit. It was good he prepared but this was going to hurt. Wes put the ship down in a clearing, the stark white filling his vision. He put on his gloves and face mask, then his dark-tinted goggles. They only helped a little bit, but at least no skin was exposed.

“Well, I guess this is it,” Wes told Knob. “Wish me luck.”

Knob whistled. _GOOD LUCK. BRING HIM BACK._

“I will,” Wes promised. If it was humanly possible, he would. 

Wes looked around. There was a broad smooth white path, marked off by jewel-green ice bricks, which definitely hadn't been there when he set his Y-wing down. "Great," he said aloud. "Walk right up to the front door." The silence seemed to muffle his words.

It was chilling cold. It didn't matter how prepared he had been. The Elder had been right. The cold was nothing like anything he had felt before. It was as if it had a life of its own, silent, breathing, watching him.

Wes headed along the path. Right into his enemy's trap. What else could he do? Hobbie was waiting for him.

Hopefully.

***


	3. Reclaimed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey ends

As Wes walked, little whirls of snow danced on the path around him. In any normal snowy place, he'd have laughed and danced along with them. Even in the bitter cold of Hoth, he'd insisted on having fun. But this... he just walked, careful and steady.

Then the singing started. Softly at first, just the normal whistling of a brisk wind, but the sounds grew more eerie as Wes walked onward. He couldn't see anyone, only hear the whining echoes that sounded like distorted voices.

Wes trudged along. How far was it? Did this path truly lead anywhere? Would he die here, alone, frozen or starved or lost? Would he be reduced to dragging himself back to his ship on nerveless legs, like the Elder before him? He half wanted to pull out his comlink and call Knob to keep him company, but the comlink's circuits would freeze almost instantly in the bitter cold. He had to save that single short transmission for the direst emergency.

The thin, watery light of the dying white dwarf star seemed to cast no shadows. Wes glanced up at the low sun, ahead and a bit to his left, then over to his right where it seemed another sun hovered. A glance over his left shoulder revealed a third. Was he even walking in a straight line? Was he following the same sun he'd started out under? Or would he walk in trackless circles till he died?

It was frigid cold. Endless white was all around him, the light hurt even under his dark goggles. It was hopeless. Why did he think he could do this? He was a fool. Hobbie wouldn't return with him. He hated him. Wes couldn't search an entire planet like this! 

He stopped. Wes took a few breaths and closed his eyes, centering himself. Hobbie didn't hate him. Helkadinen made him like this. He might not be able to search the entire planet but he had to try. This was something he could do. He could get Hobbie back. Wes knew he could. He started walking again. 

Another hour passed, the light playing tricks on his vision. Wes just kept moving, hearing the desolate crunch of snow under his boots. There were echoes behind him. Things unknown. His heart pounded in his ears while he kept moving. He might die here. But he would do everything he could to save Hobbie first!

The wind blew up, loud and unceasing as a storm erupted around him. The sky was now dark and snow threatened to blind him. Wes paused, wondering if he should try to get cover. The weather battered him as his feet became uncertain and he slipped. Wes picked himself back up and kept moving. Was he even still heading in the right direction? He couldn't tell. But this wasn't normal weather. Trying to wait it out would simply get him killed, or leave him maimed like the Elder. He could only hope he was making the right choice, not dooming himself to wander in blind circles till he died.

It seemed like he walked forever. He couldn't see a thing in any direction. The wind battered at him, as if trying to blow him over. And the howls of sound, like unknown voices, rose to deafening screams. He tried to stay on the smooth path, but would he even be able to tell if he left it?

Finally, as suddenly as it had risen, the wind stopped. The howling blizzard fell silent around Wes, and the sky cleared.

Curtains of colorful light swirled in the pale sky, framing a giant ice castle. From frosty pale blue to deepest sea-green, the castle's arches and towers gleamed. A huge gateway yawned before Wes, filled with icicles like teeth. He could feel an even more threatening cold emanating from the void. That was good, right? He was nearing the center of Helkadinen's power.

Somewhere in that frozen maze was Hobbie. Not even a prisoner; he'd risen and left their bed of his own free will. And Wes stood here alone, cut off from any help, imagining he could save Hobbie through sheer stubbornness.

He almost turned around and left. But nobody got out, did they? Neither the captives nor those who quested after them. The only way through was forward.

_I am not remotely the right person for this job_ , Wes thought. He should have sent brave Tycho or pure-hearted Wedge. He didn't belong in a fairytale. But here he was, Hobbie's best hope. He braced himself and walked inside.

The halls were long, elaborate, growing more and more opulent in their chilly grace as he walked forward. Finally, he reached a central hall, so large and tall it felt like the heart of an iceberg, the light all jeweled greens and blues. Rainbows spangled the walls, and a giant throne of ice dominated the center of the room.

On the throne itself was a beautiful woman, alabaster skin, cold eyes, and a dress that sparkled like ice suspended around her body. Her white hair spread behind her and the crown on her head was tall and made of ice. "Well? What are you waiting for? Present yourself!" 

"Your Majesty," Wes said, bowing, wishing Tycho was here or had taught him things about etiquette when meeting royalty. Somehow he doubted shoving past the last surviving Princess of Alderaan in Hoth's snowy tunnels had prepared him for this conversation. "I am Major Wes Janson of the New Galactic Republic. I am here because..." oh sithspit there was no polite way to say this. "... you have taken my wingmate Hobbie Klivian away and I have come to take him back." He blushed under his hood. Was he about to be struck dead for insolence or something?

She smiled sharply. "What hold do you have on him? Is he your love?" 

"He is my wingmate. He is my love and more than my love. We fly among the stars together. I trust him with my life, as he trusts me. I would bring him back with me, free of your cold."

"I wonder how powerful your love is against my power?" she asked. Hobbie appeared behind her, dressed in light blue pants, a long white cape, silver cuffs, and a silver collar. He was shirtless and deathly pale. Wes had never seen him so pale… not even after Hoth. His blue eyes were full with no pupil, and he was almost skeletal. What was she doing to him?! 

White blinded Wes momentarily and all of sudden there were hundreds of Hobbies in the room. "If you can identify your love, I'll allow you to go. If not," she trailed off. "Well, you'll join him as my servant. Agreed?" 

"Let us be clear on the terms," Wes said. At least he knew how this part was supposed to go. "If I can identify the real Hobbie, who is somewhere in this room under his own appearance, you'll allow me and him to depart this planet together unharmed, and you'll free him from your influence for all time. Agreed?" He smirked a little.

Helkadinen laughed. "You believe yourself so wise," she said. Suddenly she was directly in front of him. "I agree to your terms," she told him, offering her hand. 

Wes shook her hand. Well, he'd done his best. Now he just had to pick out one frozen Hobbie from among hundreds of ice duplicates.

Okay. So if there was any difference between the Hobbies, it would be something very minor. He'd probably wind up looking for the only one with pupils to his eyes or something. Whatever the difference was, if there even was one, Helkadinen wouldn't play fair. Still, he had to start somewhere.

Wes carefully scanned the assembled Hobbies for any noticeable differences. They were all tall with unnaturally pale skin, icy blue eyes, and looking wasted away, like they had been starving. Or their life had been sucked out of them. They were all still in a way that bothered Wes. 

They weren't breathing, he realized. Was the real Hobbie the only one breathing? He held his own breath for a moment, looked and listened carefully. No -- _none_ of them were breathing. Probably none of them had pupils either. That would have been too easy. Damn.

"Having trouble?" Helkadinen asked with a laugh. 

"Just being thorough," Wes said politely. This was more like squabbling with an evil version of Princess Leia than he'd expected.

There. One of the Hobbies in the middle of the pack looked... different, somehow. Wes went toward him, looking closely and carefully at different ones so Helkadinen didn't know which one had caught his eye.

He was right. This Hobbie didn't refract the icy light like the others. It was subtle, but the play of light on his face and body had the waxy look of pale skin, not bluish gleaming ice.

"I choose this one," Wes said, taking that Hobbie's hand. For better or worse, this was his best guess.

Helkadinen looked at him and lost all her mirth. She gave him a hate filled look. "You may take your prize and leave. I hope you can hold onto him." 

Wes bowed to her. "You keep your word admirably, Majesty." He kept hold of Hobbie's hand as they left the room and went out of the castle.

His Y-wing was parked right outside the door. At least it looked like his Y-wing. "Knob?"

Knob squealed in alarm and beeped quickly in binary. 

"Calm down, buddy, it's me," Wes said, taking out his comlink. One short transmission, that's all he had and hopefully all he needed. "Knob, am I back?" he asked quietly. 

An earsplitting shriek of irritated binary feedback answered him. The real Knob was definitely here and not at all happy about suddenly manifesting ice castles.

"Good enough," Wes decided. "Hobbs, c'mon, let's get in the snubfighter."

Hobbie moved slowly and got into the craft. He seemed to be breathing again but nothing seemed to be back. He didn't even try to take the pilot's seat.

Wes scrambled into the pilot's seat. Knob lifted them off the ground almost as soon as the canopy was closed, still blatting crankily.

They took off, the castle behind them dissolving and a storm breaking out just behind them. Wes hoped they'd seen the last of Helkadinen and her power.

Once they were in space, Wes jumped away. He looked back at Hobbie and saw that he was still. "Hobbs?" There was no answer. 

They flew for a while, Wes quietly growing more and more worried. Had he chosen the wrong Hobbie? Had he failed? Had he chosen the right Hobbie but made some mistake in his words? Was the man in his gunner's seat even alive? Wes had already planned to stop. He'd have to wait until then.

***

They stopped on one of the closest planets to Helkadinen's world. Wes wanted to get Hobbie into proper clothing as soon as possible, and he was also starting to realize that he could use some sleep. Possibly a lot of sleep. Slogging through unexplained magical snowstorms took a lot out of someone.

Also, he needed to prove to himself that Hobbie would still be there when he woke up. Or if Hobbie _wasn't_ there... he'd deal with that after he'd slept.

Hobbie looked at him with a slight frown. "I can sit while you sleep. I'm too cold for you to cuddle. Probably. What would you like me to do?" He asked, slightly helplessly. 

"I was hoping for cuddles," Wes admitted, touching Hobbie's face. "You are _really_ cold though. Shouldn't you be warming up by now?" he asked, worried.

Hobbie leaned into the touch. "I am frozen still. But I am yours now. If I cover myself with a blanket then you cuddle up, will that suffice?" 

Wes frowned. That sounded worrying. "How do we unfreeze you?"

Hobbie tilted his head and Wes could hear the slight cracking of ice. "I don't know. It might take some time. If I remain frozen, I still am yours," he said, obviously trying for reassuring but it set Wes even more on edge. 

"She let you go," Wes said. "I won't be comfortable that you're mine again until you're unfrozen. But we can cuddle with a blanket for now." He sighed. "Cuddles didn't thaw you out before you disappeared. I don't know what's going to do it now. I'd rather not have to throw you in a volcano," he joked.

Hobbie looked fearful for a moment then his eyes smoothed into blankness. "If you must," he said quietly. "I want to be unfrozen." 

Wes blinked. "Hobbs, I... it was a joke," he said, feeling like he was about to cry. What had happened to Hobbie? How could any magic take away that sharply bitter sense of humor he loved so much?

Hobbie nodded with more cracking. "Of course. My apologies. I can turn up the heat?" 

"I somehow doubt that's going to help," Wes said. "You just do whatever's most comfortable for you. I'm going to bed." Something was still very wrong, but he'd used up all the energy he had just trying to rescue Hobbie. He hadn't expected to be dealing with extra weirdness afterwards, and he was too heart-weary to cope.

Hobbie lowered his eyes. "Sleep. I will be here," he promised. Wes got into the bed, feeling it all hit him hard. He felt the bed move and Hobbie was there with one of the extra blankets on him as he got under the blankets that were already on the bed. "I should be safe for you under the blanket." 

Wes cuddled up against Hobbie, and the feeling of having his partner finally back in his arms combined with all the strain he was still under was too much for him. He began to cry quietly.

Hobbie untangled an arm and pet his back. "I'm here. I won't leave you. I'm yours, Wes. I'm yours," he soothed. 

Wes just sobbed harder, hugging Hobbie tight. He'd been strong for far too long, and it was all catching up to him at once.

Hobbie returned the hug. "I'll still be here. I'm yours," he told him. "I belong to you. Let it out. You'll feel better." 

Wes cried himself to sleep, clinging to his frozen partner for comfort.

***

Wes woke to see Hobbie lying still, pupilless blue eyes open. He sat straight up in a panic. Oh kriff, had she killed him? 

Hobbie sat up, giving him a questioning look. "Are you ok? What can I do for you?" 

"I'm fine," Wes said. "Just nervous. How are you? Awake already?"

Hobbie hesitated then nodded. No cracking that time. 

Wes reached out and checked Hobbie's temperature. Still a block of ice, and still so unnaturally pale he looked dead. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Good. Do you want me to get you food?" Hobbie asked. 

Wes gave him a suspicious look. Shouldn't that be food for both of them? "Are you hungry?" he asked.

Hobbie stared back. "No. She cured me of needs. I have no need to eat." 

Wes kept his face expressionless, but a chill ran through him. Would he even know if this was truly still Hobbie? "I'll get my own breakfast, thanks," he said, getting up. "You can maybe get dressed?"

"Of course," Hobbie said as he went and started undressing. He put on the clothing Wes had gotten him. He sat on the bed, waiting. 

Wes went out to get breakfast by himself, feeling deeply disturbed. He felt like he'd inherited an ice droid in the shape of Hobbie. How could he thaw his partner out? Was it even possible? Was this what the Queen had meant, taunting Wes about his inability to 'keep' Hobbie?

Once Wes returned, Hobbie stood up. "You look worried or maybe mad. Did I do something wrong? I can fix it." 

"It's nothing you did," Wes said. "I'm just worried. Are you..." He didn't even know how to ask what he meant. _Cured me of needs..._ "Are you happy this way?"

Hobbie glanced at him. "Do you want me to be happy?" he asked. "I can. I just don't feel anything. But I'll be happy for you." 

Wes couldn't even imagine how creepy _that_ would be. "Don't bother," he told Hobbie. How could he fix this? Was he crazy even to hope? But he had to try.

"I'm yours now. I really don't mind. I'm blank. It's not like it would bother me," Hobbie told him. 

"I don't want you to be doing things because you're mine," Wes said. "I want you to be your own person again. Doing things because you want to do them." He sighed. "I just don't know how to... give you back to yourself?"

"Why? Wasn't I annoying?" he asked. "Always standoffish, sarcastic, and bitter? Wasn't I a chore to be with?" 

Wes shook his head. "You were never a chore. You were sarcastic and bitter and I loved every moment of it. You were standoffish and silent and so, so worth it when I finally got to know you. You were... I loved everything about you being yourself, Hobbs. Sour and prickly and disdainful and just -- you were my Hobbie. I want him back."

Hobbie looked at him. "But… I'm yours. I can be useful to you. He's not useful." 

"Kriff useful," Wes said. "I don't want or need a servant. I just want him, the way he was."

He shook his head, not understanding. "But… I'm yours," Hobbie said, starting to tear up. 

"You always were mine," Wes said. "My wingmate. Not my... useful servant or whatever you're trying to be."

Hobbie swallowed hard and leaned against him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said over and over, starting to cry. 

Wes held him close. "Let it out," he soothed Hobbie gently. "Let it all out. It's okay, I'm here and I love you."

"I love you," he whispered. 

Wes pulled Hobbie partway into his lap, snuggling against him. Where their skin touched, Hobbie felt... less cold? Still chilly, but human-chilly, not like a block of marble. "Hobbie?" he asked, hesitant.

"Wes?" Hobbie asked, blinking in confusion. "Why am I crying? Did we… was I an asshole?" 

Wes laughed in tangled joy and kissed Hobbie hard on the lips. "Not in the slightest," he told him. "Do you remember anything?"

"Only... flashes?" Hobbie said. "I was dead. I think I was dead." 

"You felt really cold, like spooky cold, and you were acting weird as kriff," Wes told him. "Trying to be my servant and stuff."

"I said such horrible things to all of you. Didn't I?"

"Yeah, but you know they were horrible and you're sorry," Wes said. "Besides, you've been gone for almost three months and I just got you back. I'm not mad."

"You should be," Hobbie told him. "Three months?" he asked. "It…. It's been that long?" 

"Yup," Wes said. "You were stolen away by a fairytale ice queen because apparently Skywalker doesn't have a monopoly on weird magic shit anymore. You said all that shit, yeah, but you were under her spell at the time. You want a hug?"

Hobbie looked at him uncomprehending. Finally he nodded. 

Wes wrapped Hobbie in a tight hug and rocked him gently, murmuring soothing noises.

Hobbie cried in his arms, the dam breaking. He clung to Wes's shoulders and let it out. Finally he quieted and sniffed. "I need to blow my nose." 

Wes chuckled and handed Hobbie a tissue. "Be surprising if you didn't."

Hobbie blew his nose and sat back. He wrapped his arms around his legs. "I… I destroyed everything. Why are you even talking to me? I hurt you so bad. I didn't want to. But I did." 

"Because you didn't want to," Wes said simply. "You're my wingmate, and I love you."

Hobbie looked at him and leaned forward, hugging him. "I love you. I love you." 

"I love you too," Wes said, ruffling Hobbie's soft fine hair. "I'm so glad you're back."

Wes could feel Hobbie start to warm in his arms and felt the thump of his heart against his chest. "What am I going to do? You might love me but I lit every friendship I had on fire. I was almost kicked out of the Rogues. I should be kicked out!" 

"Wedge put you on leave when you disappeared," Wes said. "And everybody was worried about you. You can come back, we'll apologize, it'll be fine."

Hobbie looked at him. "You have such faith. I wouldn't blame them if they hated me. She… she trapped me inside myself. I could hear every terrible thing I said. I didn't mean any of it but… it hurt so deeply." 

"You did kriff up some of the quacklings," Wes admitted. "I did my best to fix things, but... that was a mess. But you deserve a second chance."

Hobbie frowned but nodded. "I love you. You're the best part of me." 

"You said that," Wes teased, kissing his cheek gently. "But you know, you have some pretty good qualities yourself."

Hobbie hugged him again. "Doubtful," he said wryly. 

Wes yawned enormously. "We should sleep," he said. "I've had a long day."

"You definitely have," Hobbie told him. "Do you want anything?" 

"Just you. I missed you so much," Wes said.

"I missed you too. So very much," Hobbie told him. "Thank you for rescuing me." 

"Did you ever doubt me?" Wes joked, hugging him tight.

Hobbie smiled. "I thought… I thought she had destroyed us. I wouldn't have blamed you. You deserve better." 

Wes snorted. "There isn't anyone better. Not for me."

Hobbie looked at him lovingly. "I guess you're stuck with me then." 

Wes leaned in a little, offering a kiss. "I wouldn't call it that."

Hobbie kissed him. "Well. One thing for it. If everyone does hate me and won't work with me, I could retire. Make you support me," he teased. 

Wes laughed. "I'll keep you in luxury and make you do my bookkeeping."

"I already do that," Hobbie told him. "You beautiful man." 

"More luxury? More bookkeeping?" Wes teased.

"I like that idea. But who would watch your back?" Hobbie asked. He kissed him again. 

"Mmm, good point. I'd better keep you as my wingmate."

"It's the only way to be safe. You can keep me in the luxury I deserve though," Hobbie told him. 

"As long as you make sure I can afford it," Wes teased.

"Absolutely. We are in this together," Hobbie told him. "I'll make all the apologies and see if I can make it up to everyone." 

"And I'll be right there with you the whole time," Wes promised.

"You're my favorite," Hobbie told him. "You're so wonderful." 

"I try," Wes said, kissing him again. Hobbie hugged him tight. 

"I love you. So very much," Hobbie told him. 

"I love you too," Wes said. "We should snuggle while I get some sleep. Do you sleep now? You weren't for a while there."

"I hope so. I feel like I will finally. She took… things away. I think they're back. I hope they're back," Hobbie told him. 

"We'll find out," Wes said, smirking.

"Definitely," Hobbie told him. He got comfortable and snuggled up with him. "I've missed this." 

"So have I," Wes said. He'd been so achingly lonely these past months without Hobbie in his arms. "I missed you so much."

"I'm back. You got me," Hobbie told him. "You got me home." 

"I did," Wes said. "You belong here with me."

"I definitely do. Thank you for getting me," Hobbie told him. 

"We're so good together," Wes said. "She couldn't ruin us."

"No. She couldn't," Hobbie agreed. "Sleep. You've been working very hard." 

Wes snuggled up to him. "I love you, Hobbie," he said one more time.

"I love you too," Hobbie responded. He closed his eyes and finally rested. 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I've always liked the Snow Queen story and my co-author was nice enough to indulge me. Thank you to the usual suspects and again, thank you!


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